


Healed hearts

by loveamongstars



Series: Healing Hearts [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon, Their reunion, part two of the coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveamongstars/pseuds/loveamongstars
Summary: Continuation of 'How time heals'After seeing the Mages whistle up a storm, Jaskier goes out to find Geralt. When they reunite, he realizes he is not the only one who changed and healed from what happened between him and Geralt. Maybe this was the start of something new entirely.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Healing Hearts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664773
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	Healed hearts

When Jaskier decided to go find Geralt, to warn him of what he had seen, he had not thought about how long it might take him. Before their separation he usually had a rough idea where the witcher was, at least the general area and that seemed to be what always made them meet up again. This time he did not know where he was, but he had a hunch. Because he knew Geralt. He had spent so much time with the witcher, that the only logical place that came to his mind would be between Cintra and the north. He knew despite not being a fan of the idea of the heir to the throne of Cintra being his child surprise, he would try and intercede to protect that child, viewing it has his duty. He had a complicated relationship to destiny. This, if anything, would be the way he would honor it. Geralt always had a moral code and a sense of duty about him. And especially when it concerned the most innocent people in this world: Children, he was very adamant about protecting them. It would be no different when the child was linked to him like that.

However he made quite a detour around Cintra, not wanting to face the fallout of the war directly. Usually those places were dangerous even years after the fall of a kingdom, because stability was not found in a few weeks. It took years, if not decades to find stability again and he was but one man, he could not achieve it - or defend himself against desperate people in a way that would avoid bloodshed. They did not need a bard, quite on the contrary, he might be the last thing they needed.

It took him weeks to come across rumors of the white haired witcher. He had to listen carefully to know they were essentially bullshit, so from there on he went the opposite way as people had seen him go. Sure enough after another few days of walking, the tracks were undeniable: A horse, led by a man, deep, so the man ways either heavy himself - which the tracks were too normal for - or heavily armed, and occasionally a set of smaller ones, a child, perhaps the age the child surprise would be. In this instance he was glad Geralt had once shown him how to read basic tracks. From there finding Geralt was easy, because with the child he had to travel like any other traveler: Rest at night, so the child could rest. And Jaskier did not. Two days of walking and one night had him com across their camp. Had he not been looking for them, he probably would not have noticed them, but he had been looking and so the fire over which they were cooking food. They even set up a small shelter, probably for the child - a girl he saw now. Both definitely had seen better days and Jaskier was aware that it was the same way for him. But contrary to what he expected, seeing Geralt was not unpleasant. There was no painful feeling of longing or having missed something, no painful anything for that matter. There was something warm, like recognition in meeting his friend again. That was not bad. It was a good starting point, a good basis on which he could relay his message and see where it went without having to guard his heart.

“That would taste much better if Geralt were to carry any herbs besides those he needs to make potions with” Jaskier said to make them recognize him. There was no flinch in Geralt, while the girl looked up in surprise, eyes wide like a young startled deer. So Geralt had heard him before he spoke.

Jaskier bowed his head to both. “Geralt, Princess.” The girl paled a little at that, but Jaskier thought to catch the faintest hint of a smile on Geralts lips, gone as soon as he thought he had seen it.

“How do you know…?” The girls voice quivered. She looked to Geralt and upon seeing how relaxed Geralt seemed - after all Jaskier was no threat to him ever and it would require multiple head injuries and magical mind games for him to try - she visibly relaxed a little, but was still on edge. 

“You are the spitting image of your mother Pavetta, princess. I knew her. I played at her wedding. It is hard to forget a beauty like her and by extension a beauty like you then.” He threw the girl a charming, carefree smile, hoping that in a moment of fear he was capable of at least easing her mind a little. It had effect. She smiled at the fond memory he seemed to have triggered in her and that was all he had wanted to do with his quite obvious display. The next one to smile softly was him though.

As he spoke Geralt had moved a little. Where he and the princess had sat opposite of one another, he moved closer to her, opening up a spot so they could all sit in equal distance around the fire. That was perhaps the loudest form of ‘Please, sit down, Jaskier’ Geralt had ever managed to nonverbally convey. Jaskier happily sat down in the offered spot and began rummaging about in his bag. He, unlike Geralt, did have herbs and spices with him, always had. And once he pulled out the ones that would go best with the mushrooms and meat they were making, he put that onto their meat, just to make it a little better.

Again he was convinced he caught the faintest trace of a smile on Geralts face, again he had no intention of commenting on it. Instead he tried to make light of the situation. In any other he might have gone straight to the warning for Geralt, but this child was from Cintra. Perhaps she even witnessed parts of the war if not all of it, so there was no way he was bringing that up while she was still awake. If Geralt wanted to tell her after, that was his decision, but Jaskiers was firm: He would not burden the child with knowledge that could not change the past.

“This is Jaskier, Ciri,” Geralt finally supplied.

“Oh! The bard!” Now that had him look up and then at Geralt. She knew about him? He wondered what exactly she knew about him. Geralt’s face did not change in the slightest. So there was no way he would get an answer like that, but he was under no pressure. Cirilla immediately launched into questions, which he patiently answered until food was ready. Geralt pushed it into her hand wordlessly and one look told her to eat and she complied, probably hungry anyway after walking all day.

“I am sorry we have no food for you, Jaskier.”

“Oh don’t you worry about that, I have food on me for myself. I did go on this journey prepared. I learned that the hard way, as you know. There is not only herbs in there, but bread, too.”

“Not in your pants?” Geralt saying that was so fast, one might have been able to miss it, but Jaskier did not. And he remembered…as did Geralt. Geralt actually remembered that tiny detail of their first encounter. Either that was a witcher thing and his memory was better than he expected or maybe… Geralt secretly cared more than he let on. It was, for the first time in a long, long time if not ever, a feeling of being acknowledged. Maybe the saying was true and distance does make the heart grow fonder. In his own case distance healed, gave him strength to face Geralt again.  
He sat with them as Ciri asked them both questions about what adventures they faced together. In truth Jaskier tried to take the edge off of the tales with her, tried to make it more harmless than it was.

It was only when Ciri was fast asleep, curled up under a blanket, that the mood shifted. Jaskier felt Geralts gaze on him. It wasn’t like he wanted him to speak. More like he considered what to say or if to say anything at all. It was funny to Jaskier how after all his time he knew that still. He felt like so much had changed but being back here showed him that not so much had actually changed at all. He himself had. 

“You don’t have to turn your words over in your head, Geralt. Just say what you think.” Jaskier looked at him and offered a small smile, hoping he would know and understand that he meant to be friendly here and that he held no grudge.

“What do you want me to say, Jaskier? Why are you here?” He held a gruff expression and for a moment the bard wondered if any of this might have been a mistake. His own life was fleeting, probably not of much importance in the significantly longer timespan a witcher lived. He wondered if that limited their capability to change. In any case he was here for a reason and a good one.

“I am here to give you information that might be needed to you. Or not. Even more so since you have her with you now.” The witcher nodded at that. At least it seemed like he would appreciate that. “A few days before Cintra fell, I witnessed something at the coast.” A raised eyebrow told Jaskier that Geralt seemed slightly amused at that. Right, he had told him they should og to the coast together befor they parted ways and Jaskier had actually done it. “There were two people, dressed in something like a uniform. And they were whistling.” That truly caught Geralts attention. He guessed he, too know what this could mean and he intended to tell him exactly what it was.

“I presume it was Nilfgard mages. Cintra had called for Skellige reinforcments and apparently a storm destroyed them.”

“Yeah, a magical storm. I could win wars, too if the other side wasn’t fully equipped. And at that horribly outnumbered.” Cintra never stood a chance, it seemed. “What do they say? All is fair in Love and War? Couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Nothing is fair in this world.” A look at Geralt told Jaskier that while he agreed, Geralt had seen much more of the world than he had and probably could ever anticipate. Jaskier was no fool, he knew Geralt had years and years of experience on him. Compared to his lifespan, Jaskiers was just the blink of an eye perhaps. Maybe that was why he tried to keep a distance, that Jaskier had not really seen like that before. Maybe it was protecting himself. With a sigh he settled himself for this being the end of that conversation. The information was relayed and too late at that, but he tried. And he had gotten the realisation that perhaps whatever he tried, now or in the future would not bear fruit in the way he might want it to.

“Jaskier, I…” Jaskier looked around to see Geralt look directly at him, his eyes betrayed more emotions than his voice did, but htat was normal for him. One had to learn to read Geralt and it seemed like he had misread some subtext for years and yet… perhaps he had only missed small parts of it.

“Don’t Geralt. There is nothing you have to say to me. There is nothing about the past years I regret.” Again he tried to smile at him. He tried to make him see, that even if he wanted to ask him for forgiveness, there was nothing to forgive. He was his friend and that came with accepting Geralt for who he was, learning to read between the lines and learning to live with it. He loved him, he loved Geralt the way he was and he healed from the wounds inflicted on him, but it also meant he would not deal out wounds himself just because he had been hurt. That was not how this friendship worked.

“But maybe I do…,” Geralt said. And maybe, Jaskier thought, this was more telling than anything he had ever said. Geralt didn’t speak about feelings and the fact that he openly spoke about this, willing to admit regret, well it was telling. It spoke volumes. And maybe he should let him speak. Him wanting to get out of his comfort zone of silence might be what he needed to heal and who was Jaskier to stop him?

“I know, Geralt,” he said hoping the witcher understood that this was him offering for him to stay in his comfort zone but staying open enough to allow him to come out of it, should he choose to.

“I was being unfair to you.” So he really actively chose to speak about what happened and that was perhaps the closest to an apology that he would ever get, he guessed at least, unless Geralt wanted to actually apologize and use the words ‘I am sorry’.

“I know you were. But Geralt, it’s in the past. It serves none of us to linger on the past. It’s behind us now. Thank you for acknowledging it, though.” Geralt gave him a quick, soft smile.

“What have you been up to, Jaskier. I tried to follow news about you, but you dropped from the face of the earth on occasion.”

“Oh yes, usually when I was with someone. I met this amazing woman, you would have liked her, too. She is very nurturing and calm. I was with her when we saw the mages, actually.”

“Did you leave her behind?” Jaskier nodded, almost sadly. He hated it, but their lives didn’t really belong together and they had known it for a long, long while. It was nice while it lasted.

“Our lives are too different. She is settled down. She has her people around her, a family. None of that is me, ultimately. It was nice while it lasted. But she will be fine.” She was probably better off without him. Things seemed to get dangerous around Gearalt once more and his name was publicly and loudly associated to Geralts. It was better if he kept his distance, lest they be used against him and Geralt. It was bad enough he might be used against him. But he could also do something for him and the little princess he found: Distract them. Throw them off their tracks. Because for some reason word had not traveled that the witcher and the bard no longer traveled together. Maybe he could use this to their advantage and get people on his trail instead of theirs. It was worth a shot.

While he was lost in his thoughts for a little, Geralt had gotten up and gone to Roach. He returned, holding two blankets. Wordlessly he held one out to Jaskier. Back when they traveled together Jaskier never had a blanket and Geralt never had a spare. Except now he did and part of Jaskier wondered if it was because Geralt had hoped he would return and hoped he would stay by his side. Or mabye it was just an extra blanket for the child. He chose to believe in the first: Geralt wanted him there and missed him. It was perhaps simply nicer to think of it that way. It made things easier. Geralt seemed to have missed him, honestly. The way he had spoken to him, had acknowledged his own actions, now held out this blanket, which at the very least told him he remembered Jaskiers habit and wanted him to be alright. And yet, he felt the need to show him, that he, too, had changed. 

Jaskier opened his bag and pulled out his newest acquisition: A blanket, woven wool of quite young sheep. Geralts eyes grew wide at the sight. It was written so plainly on his face: He was surprised and disappointed at the same time. And yet Jaskier put it back in and reached for the one offered by Geralt. He just had to acknowledge this gesture outright. 

“Thank you,” the bard said and wrapped himself into the blanket Geralt offered. It was scratchy and worn, but it was something and the fact that it was handed to him by Geralt to ensure he was warm that night, it made it special. It was more than he ever hoped to find the witcher would do. Looking at the man he shared so many years of his life with, Jaskier found himself smiling at him fondly. Maybe, just like he thought, all of this had a reason. Maybe all of this served a purpose: To bring them together more closely, to make them understand each other better. He had to hold onto hope of that as he fell asleep, the exhaustion of having traveled non-stop, catching up on the bard.

  
As the sun barely peaked over the horizon, Jaskier was woken by the soft rattling of someone attempting to make breakfast. And so much more. Opening his eyes he found Geralt boiling a large pot of water - to ensure it was safe for drinking he guessed - and heating a pan. It was once again mushrooms that were put on it. But along with them herbs and Jaskier simply knew Geralt wouldn’t just go through his bag. 

“You collected herbs.”

A grunt was all the acknowledgement Jaskier needed for this. He did. He took Jaskiers advice and found it good enough to follow. A fond warmth blossomed in the bards heart. 

“Geralt, before she wakes… I will be on my way again.” This got a reaction out of Geralt, a sharper one than he expected. The witcher turned around so fast, Jaskier barely saw it. All he saw was when he looked at him, eyes wide and evidently hurt and yet with an underlying notion of guilt. He probably felt like it was his fault, like his words and actions were not good enough. And he proved it by speaking.

“I was hoping you’d travel with us.”

“Oh, I will travel with you. But in the other direction. I assume people are after her. I can be quite loud, you know that.” Realization dawned on Geralt. Understanding Jaskiers plan, his expression turned fond, before looking at the princess and nodding. People were after her. And to keep her safe, the best strategy was to split up.   
“So I will travel, very loudly, make sure everybody, even the youngest person, knows where I am going with my witcher companion and the young child.”

“It’s dangerous,” Geralt supplied. Jaskier shrugged.

“I survived decades of monsters and bandits. I will survive this. Once I am sure everyone knows where we are going, I will slip away and perhaps come to you. I think I can guess where you are going.”

“The witcher keep north.” Jaskier nodded again.

“I can find my way there, roughly at least.”

“Ard Carraigh. I will come looking for you.” Now that stunned Jaskier into silence. Geralt willingly offered to come looking for him. Yeah, he could deal with that and then join him and the princess where Geralt intended to hide her once Jaskiers very own task was done. Just as he was about to finally find the words, Cirilla woke up and they ate before they got up and parted ways.

Cirilla gave Jaskier a hug, which he returned.

“Look after Geralt for me, princess,” the bard told her. She nodded eagerly.

“We both know he’ll need it,” she replied and it earned her another hug from Jaskier. 

“See you soon, Geralt.”

“See you soon, my friend,” Geralt replied. Jaskier looked down, the heat in his cheeks tipping him of to the oncoming blush. He smiled as he turned around, walking away from them, this time knowing he and Geralt would reunite. This time he knew their reunion would be a joyous one.

Three months later Jaskier found himself playing in a tavern in Ard Carraigh. He had grown a beard and wore less colorful clothing so people would not be inclined to speak about Jaskier, the bard playing in their tavern every night. He waited like that, not even playing the songs he played about Geralt, but either new ones, or old ones, sometimes popular ones from other bards, leaving his most powerful works to other artists, so he could keep up Geralts cover.

That night, the door opened to reveal a large man in a dark travel cloak. Jaskier smiled and immediately bowed to the people.  
“With that, sweet patrons, I shall take my leave. I am afraid tonight was the last night, I must move on.” Without another word he packed his lute up, shouldered it and left the tavern. The newcomer followed him outside.

“Took you long enough, Geralt. I have been here for two weeks now.”

“You can be quiet when you want to be, I give you that, Jaskier. Took me a while to figure out it had to be you.”

“Good. That was the whole point after all. Shall we?” Geralt moved towards Roach and another horse, which he had brought for Jaskier.

“Let’s go home.”


End file.
